Obsession. Lisa JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
that tore through her soul?
Oh, no, Kaylie thought, this giant log house wasn’t heaven. To her, it looked like pure hell!
“This will never work,” Kaylie predicted as Zane cut the engine.
“It already has.” He walked out to the back of the vehicle, opened the hatchback, unrolled a trap and yanked out two suitcases. Franklin scrambled over the back seat and bounded onto the gravel road.
Thunderstruck, Kaylie didn’t move. His suitcases, for crying out loud! Her heart dropped to her knees. Zane had planned this kidnapping before they left Carmel. And she’d been played for a fool!
“Let’s go inside,” he said.
“You’re not serious. This is a colossal joke, right?” But she knew from the rigid thrust of his chin that he wasn’t joking.
To his credit, he did seem concerned. The lines around the edges of his mouth were harsh, and he actually looked disconcerted by her outrage. “Look,” he finally said, glaring down at her. “Are you planning to stay out here and freeze?”
“No, I’m going to wait for common sense to strike you so that you’ll drive me back home!”
“It’s gonna be a long wait.”
That did it. She hopped out of the Jeep. Her sandaled feet crunched in gravel as she marched up to him. “This is crazy, Zane, just plain crazy.”
“Maybe.” He strode up the plank steps, fumbled with a key in the dark and shoved hard on a heavy oak door.
“If you think I’m going in there with you, you’ve got another think coming!”
He ignored her outburst. A few seconds later, the house lights blazed cozily from paned windows. “Come on, Kaylie,” he called from deep in the interior. “You’re here now. You may as well make the best of it.”
But she wasn’t done fighting yet. Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited. She’d be damned if she’d walk into this…this prison for God’s sake! She had no intention—
He clicked on the porch lights and stood on the threshold of the log house. Kaylie didn’t budge. As if rooted to the gravel drive, she tried to ignore the fact that he nearly filled the doorway, his shoulders almost touching each side of the doorjamb. And she refused to be swayed by the handsome sight of his long, lean frame, thrown in relief by the interior light behind him. She was just too damned mad.
“It’s gonna get cold out here.”
“I’m not going inside.”
“Oh, yes, you are.”
“No way, Flannery,” she argued, her head pounding from too much wine, her pride deflated. “What’s going to happen is that you’re going back into the house for your keys, then you’re going to climb back into this damned Jeep and take me home. Maybe I’ll forget about pressing charges for breaking and entering and kidnapping and you’ll be a free man!”
He shook his head and rolled his eyes to the night-darkened heavens. “Don’t you know you can’t bully me, Kaylie?”
“And here I thought you were the one doing the bullying!” she snapped back. It didn’t matter what his reasons for bringing her here were. Whether Lee Johnston was in the hospital or on the loose, Zane had no right, no right, to force his will on her. The fact that he’d purposely planned to shanghai her was more than she could take.
Slowly, his face knotted in frustration, he started back down the steps. His eyes were trained on her face. “Come on, Kaylie.”
“Out of the question.”
“Look, you’re getting into that house if I have to carry you in there myself!”
“No way.” Her throat went dry as he advanced on her. She had the urge to run as fast as her legs would carry her, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flee. No, by God, she’d stand up to him. And hold her ground she did, not moving an inch when he strode up so close that his shoes nudged the toes of her sandals.
“We can do this the hard way, or you can make it easy.”
“Take me home, Zane,” she said more softly. In the shadows she thought she saw him hesitate, and that flicker of doubt gave her hope. Maybe he’d change his mind. She touched his arm and watched his jaw clench. “This is insane. We both know it. Johnston’s still under lock and key and I’ve got to get back. Come on, Zane, this…this…stunt of yours is just no good and I’m—I’m not moving until you assure me we’re going back to Carmel!”
“Have it your way,” he said softly. His hands circled her waist. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“No, Zane, don’t—” she cried, mortified, as he lifted her easily and her feet left the ground.
“I didn’t bring you up here so that you could kill yourself by catching pneumonia.” He swung her over his shoulder and hauled her, as a fireman would, toward the house. Her hair fell over her face. All the blood rushed to her pounding head.
“Zane, this is ridiculous!” she cried, clinging to his sweater, feeling his muscles ripple beneath the knit. “Let me down, damn you. Stop! Zane, please!”
Up the porch stairs and into the house. He kicked the door shut behind him and set her, sputtering and furious, on the floor. “You bastard!” she barked, throwing her hair out of her eyes and tugging at her dress.
“Kaylie—”
“This is America, Zane. You can’t take the law into your own hands!”
He winced a little at that, and storm clouds gathered in his eyes.
“Just because you’re a private detective you don’t have the right to go around…around…abducting helpless women!”
“Helpless? You?” he flung back at her, shaking his head as he strode through a pitch-ceilinged living room and beyond. “I’m the one taking my life in my hands by bringing you here!”
“Damn right,” she agreed, right on his heels. “All I’ll give you is grief.”
“Amen.” He flipped on the wall switch and walked briskly into the kitchen.
“So you may as well give me the keys—”
“Forget it!” He turned and clamped big, angry hands over her bare shoulders. “Now, listen, Kaylie, this is the way it is. I know what I’ve done by bringing you here. I don’t need a lecture on kidnapping, abduction, the rights of the American people or women’s lib! All I’m trying to do is make sure that you’re safe.”
“Spare me—”
“I have. For seven years.” His fingers tightened over her shoulders and his eyes searched her face. She felt his anger, but in his eyes she saw deeper emotions brewing. “Just try to understand,” he said quietly. “You’ve got this job where every morning anyone west of the Rockies can switch on his television and see you and Alan Bently on the tube.”
“So?”
“So what’s to prevent your personal nut case, Lee Johnston, from trying to do another number on you?”
“The law! The courts! Henshaw.”
Zane snorted, then shoved a hand through his hair in frustration. “I deal with the law and the courts every day. Things don’t always turn out like they’re supposed to. As for Henshaw and Whispering Hills, I’ve got my doubts about that setup, too.”
“Johnston’s been there seven years.”
“Then he’s probably due for reevaluation,” Zane said. “We’ll